I Nearly Lost HIM! 3 POV's
by Hemel Lassie
Summary: This is a one off reaction piece to certain aspects of Janus. A stand alone. Told from 3 POV's. Don's complete. Alan's revised plus Amita. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

I NEARLY LOST HIM!

By Hemel Lass(ie)

_Okay, this one is definitely a reaction to the 3__rd__ viewing of the Janus List. It is the point of view of three individuals on the actions of one__, as they realize__ how __easily it all could have ended so tragically differently. But,__ for the brilliance of a mathematician's mind, __a__ nurse __who remembered long unused,__ lower __corridors__ and__ the convenient placement down there of__ what I tend to think was an earlier prototype__ MRI machine. __Those suckers were huge and so powerful they had to be placed way away from most of the hospital equipment because the magnetic field would play havoc. This is told from three different Points of View. We start with older brother, Don._

_SMB, __Rev June 11, 2007_

**DON'S POV**

Shit, when I heard Charlie say those words? That security wasn't on Ashby; I went into sheer panic mode.

Forget, professional, cool FBI agent Eppes, man!

I was scared, fricking shitless; all the frantic way, driving like a madman to the hospital. To get there and security hadn't even heard of the situation evolving on the 'safe' zone floor. Incompetent idiots!

I was one of the first cops and FBI agents on scene. We all make this mad dash up elevators and stairs to the floor to find what… While there is clear evidence of a flight, and, of somebody up to no good pursuing some other bodies, but we had no clue where said parties had gotten themselves off to at that juncture.

Those were the longest minutes of my life. Security, cops, FBI, hell, I think some NSA and CIA types were in on it, too.

We were looking all over the damn hospital for a dying man in a bed, a missing ICU nurse and my mathematical genius brother, who, just a short time ago, was honest enough to admit that going out for a face to face on a bridge, with a mad bomber who turned out to be said dying man was going a bit further to help me out on my cases, than he really was comfortable going.

So, what happened to that nice, safe, scared little brother any way? I mean, was that even like, two days ago?

Now, he hooks that nurse into helping him and they wind up down in old corridors the building managers didn't even remember were down there.

I had to call Dad in, because I knew he had approved one of the earthquake or whatever retrofits of the building.

That was a lovely conversation at first, I can tell you. "Your brother is what? Where? Well, what the? Didn't security get up there? What? All right, Don, David is here, I am on my way. Please, find your brother, Donnie."

Yeah, Dad, uh, duh…like I wasn't trying? Me and a lot of other good guy armed goons were trying for all we were worth.

Thank God, by the time Dad actually got here, the nurse had reached a phone and we were all over it.

Still it was that scared younger brother who pulled their collective their asses out of the fire, down there.

Math geek solution or not, pretty damn cool for him to realize he could use that old prototype MRI machine to take a bad guy down. Very James Bond-ish.

M's inventions have nothing on your resourcefulness, Charles Edward Eppes.

Millie, eat your heart out! My brother really IS James Bond cool! Even if none of his students will never really get to hear this tale of Charlie Eppes.

Well, one former student knows…because I called her.

I hope she doesn't get a ticket on her way over here.

I didn't know Amita's voice could get that high and squeaky. "Charlie did what? He what? Oh, my God! Is he…you are sure he's… I'm on my way!"

Am I proud of him? Hell, yeah. But I am also scared.

What if there hadn't been that MRI machine down there?

This was too damn close. I mean, the time with the sniper…that was bad…the time in the office…don't like to think about that much. But this time, he deliberately put himself in harm's way; to let a dying man live long enough to know his death had mattered.

Yeah, think about that a minute, big FBI guy! Your brother laid it all on the line for a DEAD man.

God, no one would have blamed him if he had just grabbed the nurse and run for help. But, he enlisted the nurse's help and they both hauled ass and a hospital bed…to save a dead man.

You know, Charlie; it wasn't that long ago that it really hit me that one of the things I was angriest about on my thirteenth birthday WASN'T, as I always thought, that you had once again stolen my thunder and made one of my days all about you.

In that conversation with Bradford, when you revealed, suddenly, the eight year old logic that led you to NOT get lost accidently, but, intentionally walk away from where we were camping? You said you thought that would give me what I wanted. I mean…what the f----; did you think I REALLY wanted?

Tell me, please, god, tell me you did not think what I wanted was to not have you in my life any more, at all?

The thought of that, that might be what you thought, that nearly made me crack.

Shit, Charlie, you were 8! What if you had run into a bear…or a cougar? Huh? They are up there, you know. And you would have been a very tasty little nugget. Finger food, kid.

Charlie, Buddy, you may have been annoying as hell to me back in those days, but I NEVER didn't want to know what it was like to BE THAT annoyed by you.

I never wanted to not know you were still some where out there, in my life, if not a real active part.

So, do your older brother a favor? Don't get the bright idea to go all heroic on me all the time. I don't think that my heart…or Dad's, for that matter…could handle you pulling this stuff on a regular basis!

Yeah, I know…you will probably tell me something like this was an anomaly and unlikely to repeat itself, but I have to tell you. It really isn't very comfortable being the scared instead of the … what, is Scaree, really a word? I don't like being the one who doesn't know that you are safe is what I mean. Please, don't pull this kind of thing too much. Leave the protectiveness to me, huh? Please. Charlie?


	2. Chapter 2

I Nearly Lost Him!

By Hemel Lass(ie)

Slightly revised, some grammar fixed...Amita is up next and this will be complete. Enjoy. SMB 6-14-2007

**ALAN'S POV**** - Thoughts On Arrival At the Scene Part A**

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Dear God in heaven, Margaret my love…We Nearly Lost Him! Not Don this time, but our Charlie – sweet, safe in his ivory tower in Academia, little Charlie! Plus, he put himself in harm's way,get this? For A DEAD Man, for heaven's sake.

What happened to the Charlie Don and I always thought was, well, a little chicken?

Okay, in fairness, I did always realize just how much courage it took our little boy to go into all those class rooms with all those bullying, angry 'he was on their turf' older boys. Let's face it, most of the girls in his classes weren't much better. They would bully and/or take advantage of him as well.

We both know the other children were never very kind to our little boy. They only wanted him around when they thought they could bully him into doing their homework for them. They grudgingly accepted his tutoring when he was the only thing standing between them and getting kicked off whichever team they were on for poor academic results, but, even those times, the acceptance was mixed with liberal doses of "well, it doesn't hurt to be a computer in gym shoes, does it, Chuckie?" Other kids can be so cruel. To an exceptional child like Charlie, they often took cruel to a whole new level. I know Charlie never let either of us or even Don, know how bad things really were.

Charlie has practiced his own kind of courage since the day we discovered his gifts, but this direct, action charged kind of courage? No, this I would not have conjured up a fear of happening, in a couple of million years. He was supposed to be our 'safe' son.

It isn't that we loved Don, any less.

Don would never have LET us protect him, shield him; the way Charlie needed and let himself be protected by us.

Truth be told, Donnie was an adrenaline junky from the start. Before little Charlie was even born, Don was that way. He loved the 'edge' that risk gave him. From the moment he decided learning to crawl would be too boring and skipped straight to standing up and walking. He took his share of lumps and bumps and bruises, but he wasn't a crier, our Donnie. He pretty much would be getting back up, dusting himself off before you could even get there to kiss the boo-boo better. That frustrated your mother hen instincts didn't it, sweetheart?

Don thinks we coddled Charlie and protected him too much. You know that, right, love? Perhaps, to a degree, he is right in this. But, until he produces some of those longed for grandchildren, what does HE know about the joys and terrors of parenting? Like all those without children of their own, he thinks he knows exactly what he would do. Hah! Let's see him when his first born has the croup…or needs his first set of diapers changed, even. Bet he will sing a different tune then, eh?

Don still does not fully appreciate how much or how often his younger brother took more than his share of lumps. Or the risks and injuries to both his self-worth and his physical well-being, Charlie pushed past to get the education his questing mind required and needed.

The wonders of 20/20 hindsight, eh, my love? We both know now that too often we nurtured Charlie's wonderful mind, without regard to the fact he was that physically and especially socially, he was still just a little, little boy from the time we knew he was 'special', in the brains department.

We could never have shielded him from all harm. I believe that passionately now, as I did at the time. It takes a certain amount of stress to grow strong roots. Still, he did suffer for his gift, whether Don realizes that or not. In fact, I don't think I understood it fully until after you left us. That forced me to begin to confront the reality, the enormous reality of what life was really like for our Charlie. It was easy to wonder why one of my sons' seemed so soft, when I didn't confront the fact that we had raised the genius, but inadvertently looked over certain aspects of raising the CHILD in him to full manhood. And, that was not his fault. Nor was it yours, Margaret. That he turned out as well as he did is more a testament to your hard work and patience than my own. Mea Culpa on that.

That's why I was so happy when Charlie accepted my little nudge on the camping trip thing and went to Don's therapy session. When I heard our grown, tenured, prize winning, world renowned youngest say that he didn't want to go because "I work with him now... and he, you know, let's me hang around him."

When I reacted to that, he said. "Yes, Dad, I know. I am still the younger brother." Or, words to that effect. Well, at that point, I knew that Donnie's therapy or not, Charlie needed the chance to set the record straight on a few things.

It was many years before Charlie admitted to the two of us what he had really done on that camping trip. To his mind, his logic was flawless. He was chagrined and dismayed at the unintended fall out, but, being a math minded individual, he had surmised the only way to balance things out that weekend, for his much loved, older brother was to remove himself, little, not wanted there, Charlie Eppes, from the equation. That is what you do in mathematics, after all. You reduce the equation until you can properly add or subtract the remaining items. The fact he was only eight didn't matter.

If he could endure the bullies at school, the constant ire and irritation of his big brother, Don and his Mom and Dad's efforts to socialize him more and get him outside in the fresh air for longer periods of time, he figured he could handle anything else he found along the road home. The funny thing is that a part of me thinks he probably was right. He would have eventually made it home on his own.

We would have been going crazy in the meantime, of course. But, maybe, in a way, we deserved that worry. Perhaps, being the genius he is, Charlie was right. We should have either of left him home with you and had a family party for Don at another time, or the whole family should have gone and you would have been with Charlie, so Don would not have been unfairly burdened on his birthday camp out. Again, 20/20 hindsight is a wonderful thing, but it has little to do with the real world of things.

Remember how he begged us not to tell Don, when he made his confession? You and I both thought Don needed to know, to understand a little better some of what his little brother faced every day, but Charlie insisted it wouldn't change any thing in the grand scheme of things. He was afraid it would only hurt an already strained relationship. Remember?

"Please, Mom…Dad…he hates me enough for being wierd and a freak geek already. Please don't tell him what I really did."

I wonder if Don has begun to understand now.

Of course, what actually occurs in such counseling sessions are privileged, as well they should be, but, after Charlie changed his mind, agreed and went to the session with Bradford? The longed-for attitudinal adjustment in Don to Charlie and in Charlie's relating to Don seemed to be happening and I was quite content.

I didn't bargain on this one. I never would have conjured up Charlie charging to the rescue of a dying man in a very danger fraught situation. I just never would have thought of it. Perhaps I should have known though. Courage often only emerges when the proper pressure is applied.

After all, I was there when Don first heard from Charlie and recognized that something was very wrong at that hospital! I heard him snap out that Charlie needed to get security back up there right away, when Charlie relayed that the guard was gone from guarding Ashby.

Don dashed off, as Don must when that sort of situation emerges, but I blithely assumed it was just a matter of Charlie calling down to security and getting them back up there. I never considered the possibility that both our boys would be at risk.

That Charlie would realize just how dire the situation had become and leap, nervous but determined into the fray himself. My imagination would never have conjured that up in a thousand years.

So, why, why is it that, though I was scared to death when Don explained by phone the predicament regarding Charlie and not knowing really where to look for him, after he reached the hospital? Why is it that I didn't totally panic, when he admitted his kid brother was missing in a huge area hospital with so many hiding places that?

Well, I am no Charlie, but I knew that the odds were not good, that our youngest and his company of the at risk would be found before this awful scenario had played itself out, whatever way it would play itself out. I should have been as frightened for him as I always am for Don, but oddly, I wasn't. It was as if a part of me assumed that our Charlie would be all right. Why? That makes no sense. Don carries a gun and knows how to use it. Charlie carries a computer and does brilliant equations in his mind.

By the time I arrived at the hospital, David had already relayed to me that the nurse had called in from the nearest land line amidst those lower corridors. He told me that our Don, and like a thousand of LA's so-called finest, were all over making sure our youngest boy was taken care of, yet even at that point, it still wasn't Charlie, I feared for. What was that? Denial. We REALLY could have lost him, Margaret.

I knew long before I saw Don in the halls when I first arrived at the hospital that Charlie was physically safe.

I will never forget the look to Don's face, the expression on it, mingled pride and stunned astonishment and lingering fear of what might have been, as he caught up with me briefly, before I had a chance to see our youngest. There was a whole new quality in the way he looked as he spoke of Charlie. I am sure that same mix of pride and horror at the danger Charlie had taken on in his efforts to save a dying man for a bit longer was mirrored on my face. Don looked almost beside himself with worry, but that was mixed with an admiration and respect for his brother, that was light years beyond the one he has always had for Charlie's unique mental abilities.

This time Charlie had wittingly, willingly stepped in to his turf, the turf of action, not just theory. His kid brother had persevered and won the day. On his own! Don did not get a chance to rescue his little brother this time. Not the way he has always done before.

When our Donnie told me how Charlie had managed to pull his own, that nurse and the dying agent Ashby's collective posteriors out of the frying pan, there was no begrudging quality, no holding back of the admiration that made him say. "Dad, he saved himself and the other two…with an old prototype MRI machine. I mean, who, but, our Charlie would even have been able to think of that, under that kind of stress and fear? You know he had to be scared, Pop. But, he acted anyway. Please, Dad, don't give him too hard of a time for this. I know it is scary and I don't ever want to see him in this position again, but, Damn! …I have never been more proud of him. Still confused by him, by how he DOES this kind of thing. Yeah, I am, but I am also so damn proud. This was against his grain, but he did it. Hell, yes, he did it."

My answer to Don was simple. "The same here. I don't like that he did this. But I couldn't be more proud…of BOTH my boys."

Don's response to that was that smile we just don't see enough of. That all out, full blown, shit eating grin that says he is on top of the world! Whatever mistakes we made, Margaret, my love, rearing our extra complicated set of two boys? To produce two sons, so willing to lay it all on the line when it really counts? We must have done SOMETHING right!

I have to go actually see Charlie now, Margaret. See for myself that he is okay. You'll probably hear more from me soon.

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I Nearly Lost Him!

**Alan's POV, Part B**

_Very short, but I needed to add this bit. I just did. __Too sappy?__ So sorry, my bad…but writing this made me quite happy. Just one fan's thoughts on what might have been running through Papa Eppes mind. SMB Also, revised6-14-2007_

When Don briefed me down in the halls before I went up to the ICU area, he said what he did, and, he was off to do whatever mop up work, it is his job demands. I get the feeling someone was about to be taken to task in a big way, for the danger Charlie had just gone through, by one very proud, but pissed off older brother! And when I say taken to task? I mean in a very up close and personal kind of way!

I proceeded up to where my hungry eyes first saw Charlie.

When I first saw him, Margaret, he was hunched over the ICU desk where he must first have realized something was amiss and probably conversed with Don and the nurse before they set out on their improvised rescue run. He looked, well, more than a bit done in. In fact, he looked rather like he was about to toss his cookeis if you know what I mean.

All I could think to ask, was. "Charlie, how are you?"

True to his science oriented core, our youngest was ruthlessly honest in self appraisal. "Dad, I just risked my life for a dying man, and, that's not me!" He was nearly breathless, as he paced and gestured; his words almost seemed to trip over each other, as they tumbled from his lips: he was in such a hurry to share them. "I acted recklessly; against my own instinct for self preservation, and yet, in a weird way, I have NEVER – "and, he paused a moment, before he firmly, with great emphasis, stated, "felt more EMPOWERED."

The way he said it, Margaret, the look in his eyes, the motion of his hands, the set of his jaw - you know that look, as do I. It is the look of a people oppressed again and again throughout history and yet, we emerge from it. And, we stand.

It is the heritage of the people whom Moses led out from slavery under Pharaoh; the haunted, lost look of the survivors of European and Russian pogroms exiled from country after country, village after village, but still a people, and, still we stand. The look of those who held to who they were in the face of the Spanish inquisition and torture; the look of the survivors of the Holocaust who were little more than walking skeletons, when they were liberated from the death camps; yet survivors of whom some went on to come stateside and work for social justice, while others went on to found the modern state of Israel, which still holds the line against those who want the Jewish race gone, obliterated, exterminated, wiped forever from the face of this earth.

Through it all, our people have emerged, again and again, to say. "This matters. This means some thing. We stand for something – for justice, for those who can NOT stand for themselves, for and with the blacks during the civil rights marches, and against the injustice of the war as we did in our protests in Don's youth, love. We stand still. Most of all, we STAND."

Though I have never been one for keeping the traditional Jewish faith; you know I lean more towards Unitarian Universalist or liberal Episcopal myself. Still, I felt stir within me, the heart of a more traditional Jewish father who, on his son's Bar Mitzvah, stands tall when he says the ancient words. "Today, my son, YOU ARE A MAN."

Charlie took my breath away a bit; but, the actual words that passed my lips, as they quirked in bemused pride. "You Sound Like Don." For, that too, was the truth.

He went on, still firm in his clear headed statement of his belief. "A mind this brilliant deserves to know that it didn't die in vain. That it didn't LIVE in vain."

My love, my Margaret, I know, like me, you must have been so proud. So very proud of our son. With all our errors, missteps and misjudgments in parenting, we have two wonderful, courageous sons, both of whom in the face of danger and self doubt, give back to the world with all they can…and than a bit more on top of that. That is our legacy, Margaret and, a true mitzvah, both a blessing from, and our gift back to G-d and the world.

And, yes, my dear. I thought of you with a wistful longing when Amita burst through the doors. I assume Don must have called her. This old father's heart was both nostalgically sad that you were not physically present to see it, while also, selfishly glad that I had lived to.

The way Amita flung herself into our youngest boy's arms and greeted him with a passion and fervor matching any sparks we ever produced, in our hey day, love.

Finally, a glimmer of real hope for those much longed for…..grandchildren!


	3. Chapter 3

I Nearly Lost Him!

By Hemel Lass(ie)

_This one is pretty short and now this tale is done. Hope you enjoyed it, friends. Sylvia _

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**AMITA'S POINT OF VIEW**

I could have lost my Charlie today. This amazing man I am in love with, could have been dead; and, for what? To save, for a few more hours, a man who is dying anyway? Who would have thought Charlie would brave that kind of danger, put himself, at that kind of risk?

How dare he? Doesn't he know that my world would spin off its axis; if he was suddenly removed from it forever? He has no right to risk OUR budding relationship that way! Damn him.

Oh, who am I kidding? I am proud! Scared half to death he would do something so brave, so crazy, so reckless, but proud!

Charlie has always amazed me, but this is LIGHT years beyond anything he has done before. This time he put himself in physical danger …and, he didn't have to rely on Don and the team to rescue him. He did it. With an old MRI machine, no less? How amazingly cool is that!

Poor Don, I think I broke the eardrum he had up to the phone when he called me to let me know what had happened.

I know I set a new land speed record getting from my place to the hospital.

It's a miracle I didn't get pulled over.

Guess this time I should be grateful there WASN'T a cop around, although, if the security guard had stayed where he was supposed to be, Charlie would never have had to risk it all the way he did. But, at least, no actual traffic cops were ignored on my wild dash here.

This is the same Charlie who, just a few months ago was scared into near catatonia; by the fact that Larry was going into space.

Well, calculated risk that space flight is?

At least that was fulfilling a long held dream of Larry's.

Please tell me that Charlie has NOT always dreamed of being an FBI agent, just like his big brother.

Because I worry about the potential risks to Charlie from his consulting with the FBI and the other members of the government alphabetic soup enough, as it is; I don't really want to add Don-style action hero on to Charlie's list of legendary regular pursuits.

I wonder how I will look in gray or white hair, anyway.

Because once I am done kissing the hell out of my math geek, I am going to the nearest mirror to see how badly I need a color job to my hair as a result of this little escapade.

Just imagine the strain this put on poor Alan?

I adore Papa Eppes. He must be absolutely beside himself. Well, actually, he is over there... beside us. Looking on at my little public display of affection here. How must he feel? Charlie is supposed to be his SAFE son.

Well, so much for that!

This probably won't go onto Charlie's public list of accomplishments, but everyone on Don's team, Alan, Larry, Millie and I will know.

Rumors of it will probably siphon off through the halls of CalSci and the various police agencies, but the students may well think it is just part of the legendary status of Professor Eppes. A tale from Eppes Apocrypha, perhaps? Not really canon, but supposedly this happened.

I know the truth of it.

I am holding the still trembling man in my arms now…and I am not even embarrassed at the display I just put on in from of Alan, security, nurses, et al.

Charlie is as much a hero, as any other warrior, but more so. The one everyone assumed was a cowardly lion? He just shook out his mane and, boy, did he roar?

Is it adrenalin that has him trembling…or the after wash of fear at what he did? You know what. It really doesn't matter.

Charlie, I realize something now that I didn't before. I really have fallen in love with you.

I respect why you did this, my love, but don't you dare start making this kind of behavior a habit, okay?

I am just not sure my heart will take it. It may be young and strong, but I think you just took 25 years off the length of my lifeline, sweetheart.

Please, please, don't make a habit of this. I love you, you mad, math rock star, you!

You don't need to be Spiderman – stick with the Peter Parker alter ego – okay?

Hmm. That does conjure up an interesting mental image though….

Charlie in a Spiderman outfit? Very interesting. Maybe for Halloween? Or a more private recreational recreation? I'll have to think on that one some more.

For now, I am holding on to this man, for dear life. I love you, Charles Edward Eppes. I love you.

Have another and another kiss? I really do love you.


End file.
